


100+ Words of Stargate Atlantis

by rudigersmooch



Series: 100+ Words Series [4]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, M/M, Nonnies Made Me Do It, Rating varies by chapter and is in the chapter notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-11-24 10:24:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 10,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18163973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudigersmooch/pseuds/rudigersmooch
Summary: An ongoing collection of short ficlets/standalone snippets based on FFA prompts.





	1. Kinks Your Character Would Not Admit (John/Todd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated for General Audiences.

It was the teeth that gave him the most pause, though people probably would've thought John was crazy if he'd said that out loud. All things considered, the teeth were mostly for show; it wasn't like Todd was an iratus bug, liable to latch onto his neck the moment he got too close. Wraith were dangerous for a lot of reasons, but not the teeth, not really, and when Todd was actually in chains, he was less dangerous than half the things they ran into when they went off-world. 

So, it was really only when Todd smiled, too friendly to ever put any of them at ease, that John thought about it. They'd probably feel like needles, sinking in, and Todd was too smart to go for the throat, not when it would ruin a perfectly good meal. But if he did bite, wherever he did – it would leave a mark.

John hated that the thought made him shiver, and so he pushed it down, down, at least until he could sit alone with the guilt and fear, and let it overtake him.


	2. Unexpected Gestures (John/Todd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated for General Audiences.

There was something gratifying, John decided, about seeing Todd look surprised to see him while knowing the reaction was actually genuine. This time there’d been no subspace signal, no plea for help or offer of a trade; if they hadn’t been tracking the energy of a probable ZPM, they would’ve likely never come inside this building to find Todd imprisoned in this cell, and the way he reacted—immediate suspicion followed by transparent gratitude—was almost worth the fact that the ZPM had been gated to another planet yet again.

John hesitated a little before unlocking the cell, but the hesitation was an instinctive thing, a warning from his subconscious mind about the possible consequences of letting a dangerous creature out of its cage. Todd didn’t seem to notice or take it personally, though, and that meant it was easier for John to step aside and out of the way without their usual blustering dance of ulterior motives.

“Sheppard.” Todd blinked and bent his head before he stepped through, a reaction much more like his usual. “How did you find me?”

“Just in the neighborhood,” John replied, and then he heard a clattering of footsteps in the distance, noise enough that he turned to look back down the hallway he’d come from. He took his eyes off Todd for an instant— a mistake, as it turned out.

When Todd moved, it was silent and fast. There wasn’t enough time for John to raise his gun before Todd was too close for it to be effective, and so instead John automatically braced for pain, from a feeding or otherwise. It would’ve been all he deserved for being careless, and for not taking the chance to get rid of Todd once and for all.

He didn’t know whether he felt more baffled or more guilty when his mind realized that Todd wasn’t hurting him, but _hugging_ him.

“Thank you, John Sheppard,” Todd said, close enough that the alien rumble was a physical thing against his chest. He smelled vaguely sweet in that way all Wraiths did, and he was tall enough that the hug in question was more like being smothered; since Wraith didn’t really hug, John could only assume that he’d learned the gesture from observing humans, unaware that it wouldn’t have the same meaning when both participants half-considered killing the other every time they met.

It was over in an instant, over quickly enough that John really had no excuse for the way it took him a second to resume breathing after it was over. A stupid delay, one that he refused to think about.

This time when he turned to lead the way out, he kept an eye on Todd, who looked completely unbothered by it all.

“You’re welcome. Don’t do that again.”

It wasn’t until John had rejoined his team and they’d parted ways that he let himself think about the most disturbing part of it all: that Todd hadn’t felt any more or less warm than a human did.


	3. Domming the Monster (Teyla/Todd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Teen for Wraith-type D/s & some violence.

In the end, the worst part of impersonating a Wraith Queen was how disturbingly easy it became.

While there were many things Teyla wished she could lay blame on for this—Dr. Keller's work was flawless, the crew was willing to believe, the threats that came and went were easy to dispatch—the truth was that it was a role that fit more than she wanted to admit right from the start. She'd always been a leader, and while she'd never been cruel or cunning or ruthless like the Wraith expected their Queen to be, she'd always found it easiest to be what her people needed. It was a matter of perception and understanding, a willingness to bear the burden and responsibility and expectations; this part of her hadn't changed now that she was pretending to be the leader of a people she hated and feared, and so she adapted. If they needed cruel, she was cruel. If they needed cunning and ruthless, she was cunning and ruthless. And if, underneath it all, the part of her that was still human screamed out it protest and anger at what she was becoming, she let the anger lash out, as Queens so frequently did.

Todd bore the worst of it, and by the time Teyla realized that was its own problem, it was far too late to stop it.

At first, the reasoning had been because he'd allow it, since he so needed this ruse to succeed. If the Queen that Teyla was needed to display a show of strength, it only made sense to choose someone who wouldn't fight her, who wouldn't react in any way except respect for their supposed leader. That reasoning had lasted a week, maybe less, before Teyla's anger took a more pointed turn; this had been Todd's idea, after all, and the impersonation that was supposed to last mere hours had stretched into weeks and months because of information he'd kept to himself. That she could feel herself slipping away, little by little, was his fault, and so there was satisfaction in it when she kicked out his knees, forced him to kneel, or struck him hard enough to make him unsteady on his feet. That had lasted another week.

By the third week, her anger was more calculating. Her mind had opened in her time here, enough that she could feel the Wraith whisper-speak across their telepathic link without even trying. It was unusual for a Queen to pay so much attention to one Wraith, their thoughts told her. It was suspicious, though the suspicions that arose were not the ones Teyla worried about; they didn't doubt her or her place so much as they doubted _him_ , what Todd had done to earn her favor if he obviously displeased her so much. The answer they decided on—that he entertained her in other ways—was humiliating, at least for someone as proud as Todd was. Every time she lashed out at him, it eroded more of his influence, more of his credibility and worth, and there was nothing he could do to stop it, not when he still needed her as his Queen.

It took her weeks longer to realize that his pride must not have been as strong as she'd thought, though she only saw it when he went to his knees one day without being told. Teyla responded automatically by fisting her hand in his hair, thick clumps like twine between her fingers, but something stopped her when she raised her other hand to deliver a punishing blow. It was barely a feeling, barely a hint across her mind, but it felt like...contentment. 

The feeling wasn't hers. Not entirely.

"You will only kneel when I ask," she said, the command coming out sharp but barely so. Her grip on him had already loosened, but it didn't matter—he wasn't going to pull away.

"Yes, my Queen," Todd said. There was nothing mocking in his voice, nothing but pure obedience, and Teyla knew then that she'd never make it back to Atlantis.

All Wraith, after all, wanted a Queen.


	4. Bottoms (John/Todd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Mature for vague sex, some dubcon (sex pollen).

“I warned you to stay away from that plant,” Todd said, and if that seemed like a strange detail to get hung up on when John was straddling him and yanking at his clothes, well, Todd was a strange guy.

“You didn’t say ‘away’ meant _fifty feet minimum_ ,” John groused anyway, because he could be petty too and it seemed like a more normal conversation than complaining about either Todd’s belt or the heat he felt licking up his spine. Inhaling that pollen didn't make him burn, not exactly, but it was headed that direction, and John had instinctively known that even before he’d lost the part of his brain that kept him from pawing at their friendly neighborhood Wraith. "This isn't my fault. You could've at least gotten out of range of...this."

"Yes, I'm sure running away would've made you _much_ more likely to believe me, and would not at all be taken as an invitation to kill me like you've promised in the past." Todd sounded a little put-out, the way he always did at the reminder that John didn't trust him. "Do you need any help with that?"

"I've got it," John said, right before he actually succeeded in unfastening Todd's belt.

The idea of stopping, while it crossed his mind, was discarded quickly. He didn’t know what would happen if he ignored the urge currently driving him, but at best he doubted it would be pleasant. If it came down to a matter of actual survival—well, Todd understood that, at least. That was probably why he hadn’t reacted when John had knocked him to the ground, and why he didn’t just fling him away now, even though John had gone long past the point of “tripped and fell” plausible deniability. 

John almost wished Todd would stop him, survival or not, because the alternative—that Todd was just letting him do what he needed, that Todd didn’t even mind—was doing weird things to his head, things that couldn't be blamed on a goddamn plant. So it was almost a relief when he finally reached bare skin and rational thinking became more like white noise, and it was all John could do to notice that Todd’s skin was waxy-smooth and that they were compatible _enough_ before he lost the ability to have a conversation at all.

 _You’re fucking a **bug** , John_, he reminded himself after a few minutes had passed and the immediate need for sex had receded somewhat, but the thought didn’t even slow him down. Todd was still human-shaped as far as his overheated brain cared, and the parts that made him alien—the needle-teeth, the gaping mouth on his palm, the way his skin went almost translucent when he was hungry, the hard black of his nails that were more like exoskeleton, the growl-purr he made when John pushed inside—weren’t a deterrent then either. The only real deterrent, in fact, was that Todd was touching his back and shoulders in a curious, almost affectionate way, and that he seemed not to care at all that John showed no signs of stopping.

"I knew you were strong for a human," Todd said in his ear, and there was so much approval in the words that John could've cursed.

Instead, he bit down on whatever part of body he could reach as the second wave hit him, and tried to convince himself that it was only the pollen that filled him with a short burst of joy when Todd made another pleased, alien noise.


	5. Death Threats Being a Turn-On (John/Todd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Teen/Mature.

Their conversation ended with another uneasy truce, and John took it as his cue to leave. That was how things worked best with Todd, after all: getting out before someone on either side could ruin whatever fragile agreement they had, and then hope that it wouldn’t fall apart in the distance. Usually it worked out for the best, going off without a hitch.

Today, however, Todd stopped him with a question that John wouldn’t have expected in a million years.

“Where’s your Satedan friend?”

“He’s not here. I’ll tell him you were disappointed.” The response was thrown over John’s shoulder, but he’d already stopped walking, his suspicious mind busy playing catch-up. “Wait. Are you actually disappointed?” Huh. John would not have called that. “And here I thought I was your favorite.”

“Oh, you are,” Todd responded immediately, and John didn’t like the way his body shivered when Todd’s voice went all silky like that, but it had happened enough that he was used to it, sort of. “But a little hostility does add excitement to our meetings.”

“If you want me to threaten to shoot you, Todd, you only have to ask,” John said, and it was because he was paying attention, because he was annoyed for some reason and that always made him focus more, that he saw Todd’s pupils expand just a bit. Not a lot—they still maintained their distinct slitted shape, a shape highly visible against yellow-green irises—but enough to be a _reaction_. It was…a very bad idea to pursue the reason behind that.

Unfortunately, John wasn’t good at not poking at things.

“In fact, I could shoot you right now.” He could’ve—the other marines had already left the room at his dismissing nod, and it was just him and Todd. Nobody would’ve wondered why John had to shoot a Wraith, not even their occasional ally; any story he provided would’ve worked for Atlantis command. “Though it would be a shame to just leave you here to bleed out in your hive.” Another slight widening of the pupils, and this time, too, Todd’s mouth parted enough for John to see the outline of his teeth.

This was happening, apparently. 

John didn’t know what to think, except that he was pretty sure he didn’t want to shoot Todd _half_ as much as Todd apparently wanted him to, and that was something he just couldn’t indulge.

“Do you have a death wish?” he asked, and the words came out a little accusing, maybe, even as he gripped his gun tighter.

“Not quite,” Todd said, but he was still watching John with an almost hazy focus, and John couldn’t look away, didn’t want to. “It’s something Wraith have in common.”

“I’m not sure I believe that,” John said, but he still didn’t move, not even when Todd took a step closer.


	6. Unwanted Feelings (John/Todd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated for General Audiences.

Sometimes, it worried John just how easy it was to work with Todd.

Now, he didn’t mean “easy” as in “simple;” nothing was ever simple, straightforward, or smooth when it came to one of Todd’s plans, and even when they were following someone else’s plan, there was a good chance that Todd had his own scheme that would show up sooner or later. Todd’s other quirks--namely, a quick temper and a tendency toward leaving out crucial information, two things obvious even when he tucked both behind a friendly facade—also brought their own complications, and the result tended to be a mess in the long run. It should’ve been impossible to work with someone so reliably slippery, even if he hadn’t been, oh yeah, a _Wraith_.

Sometimes, though, things went well. It always surprised John when it happened, when a temporary alliance led to them parting on decent terms or either side getting a better deal than they’d expected, and thus leading them to more deals in the future. In fact, when things went easy, John laid the blame for it squarely at his own feet, because John’s good opinion seemed to matter to Todd, at least enough that he usually kept the letter of his word. Worse was that Todd seemed to trust him and like him despite the times they’d been at each other’s throats in the past; considering Todd wasn’t inclined to be forgiving most of the time, it was amazing how often he forgave John for real or imagined crimes, and that was a _problem_. John found it easy, too easy, to return the consideration, even though he would’ve been better off just hating Todd like they hated all Wraith. That was the part that should’ve been easy, but instead, every time John thought of it, he came to the same conclusion.

It would be a lot easier to hate Todd, John decided, if there was even the slightest chance of Todd hating him back.


	7. Kidnapping (John & Todd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated for General Audiences.

John wasn't sure whether he'd been kidnapped or rescued when he woke up inside the hive with a distinct memory of his puddlejumper taking a hit hard enough to overwhelm the inertial dampeners, but he decided it was a moot point around the time he recognized his surroundings as a room rather than a cell. Accommodations like this meant this was almost certainly Todd's hive, and that meant that—kidnap or rescue—the result would probably be the same either way: Todd asking him for something, John very likely agreeing, and then the two of them parting ways.

So it was a surprise, somewhat, when Todd didn't show immediately after John woke up. In fact, John figured it was an hour, maybe more, before the door trembled and opened and Todd walked in, carrying food of all things. John wondered if he'd heard his stomach growling from outside, or if the hive carried sound directly to its commander's ears.

"I didn't know how often humans eat," he said, mildly enough that John was certain he was lying. "Comfortable?"

"Enough," John said, and he took the proffered bowl with no small amount of suspicion. It looked like some sort of oatmeal or barley mix; it didn't take a leap to assume it was the same food human prisoners were given aboard the hive. "How did I get here?"

"You were under attack by one of our rival factions - a territory dispute. We brought you on-board when your ship was damaged."

"Well, thanks for the rescue," John said, and was relieved, just a little, when Todd didn't try to pretend it was anything else. "What do you want for it?"

"Nothing at all, John Sheppard."

"Really," John said, with skepticism as thick as the mush in his bowl. "Nothing?"

"Nothing in return," Todd amended. "But it will be several days before we're within range of a gate for you to use, or before your ship is repaired. I would appreciate the...conversation."

The way he said that last word, with just the slightest hesitation, made John wonder what he'd meant to say instead. It could've been anything, knowing Todd, and so John resigned himself to a few days spent either talking about Wraith history or being interrogated about Atlantis, or both.

"Fine. You know where I am when you want to _talk_ ," John said, and though he hadn't meant it that way, Todd immediately took that as a cue to leave.

"I look forward to it. In the mean time, please rest. You're quite safe here."

The words were friendly enough, but not so friendly that John could ignore the sound of the door sealing behind Todd as he left. Locked in a room with barely edible prison food: John supposed it didn't really matter whether this was a rescue or a kidnapping when the result was mostly the same.

He ate the food anyway, and decided to be grateful, at least, that this room had a bed.


	8. Audible Sex Noises (John/Todd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Mature (for sex.)

Todd had been purring almost since the moment clothes started coming off, but since John’s only other reference for that low rumbling sound was when they’d been in prison and Todd had been starving with a blessedly thick wall of concrete between them, John tried not to think about it. Though the context was different enough that it shouldn’t have mattered, not when Todd was generally a vocal guy anyway, it was still a little unnerving being this close when Todd sounded so pleased and _hungry_ ; that it wasn’t unnerving enough for John to change his mind or pull away when Todd’s feeding hand touched his bare shoulder said a lot more about John’s survival instincts than it did about the relative safety of the situation, and he tried to keep that in mind even as more of that mottled green skin was revealed for his eyes, his hands. John had wanted to touch Todd for much longer than he cared to admit, and though the feeling was admittedly odd—Todd’s skin was waxy-smooth and slightly cooler than he’d expected, with less give than a fleshy human’s would’ve had—it was still satisfying.

Fucking him was even more satisfying, and that was half because of the sensation (hot, tight—that wasn’t alien at _all_ ) and half because Todd’s noises changed at that point. The purring picked up tempo, becoming louder and heavier against John’s chest, but it was overlaid with the occasional growl when John moved just right. It was an approving sort of sound rather than the angry ones Todd usually made, and John couldn’t help but fixate on them, using them as simple code for how Todd liked to be touched, how much he liked John moving inside him and mouthing at his throat.

 _Is this because I’m treating you like a Queen?_ John thought after one such sound, and he didn’t know if Todd was telepathic enough to catch that or if it was only a coincidence that he let out a throaty “ah! Sheppard!” at that instant. Either way, it made John’s hips stutter and his knees turn to jelly, and he could only be grateful that they were already on the floor, or else he was sure Todd would’ve looked even smugger than he usually did.


	9. Finger Sucking (John/Todd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Teen for minor sexual content.

“Stay down,” John said. “And stay quiet.”

Todd frequently humored him when they were stuck skulking around the forest together, but the brusque order, apparently, was a step too far. John could practically feel Todd’s exasperation, curled at his back like so much tension.

“Really, Sheppard—”

John didn’t think about it beyond it being the most expedient solution when faced with the possibility of imminent discovery, and he slapped a hand over Todd’s mouth before he could finish. The warning that screamed through his head— _BAD IDEA, JOHN, BAD IDEA_ —came a second too late to be useful, and John felt a wave of cold wash over him while he braced for the consequences. It would serve him right if Todd bit him with those sharp teeth or pulled his hand away hard enough to bruise or break something, and it was because he was so prepared for pain that he almost didn’t notice when Todd simply glared and licked his palm, not unlike a child trying to get his way.

“Are you kidding me?” John asked in a hurried whisper, and the absurdity of the situation was enough that his innate stubbornness reared its ugly head; he kept his hand right where it was. “This is no time for games.”

Something sparked in Todd’s eyes at that, a sign that John should’ve heeded enough to pull away or at least to look back to the forest where their pursuers were hunting them. Since he did neither, there was no mistaking the deliberate intent when Todd licked his palm again, much more slowly this time, and all the way from heel to fingers. It should’ve been repulsive or laughable, surely, but John was too distracted by how surprisingly soft Todd’s tongue was to do much more than allow it to happen while his breath caught in his lungs. Even when Todd turned his head slightly to mouth more deliberately at the fleshy base of John’s fingers, John was frozen, and it felt like something had taken control of his body when he quickly turned his head around to check the area was still clear before shifting enough to press his fingertips to Todd’s green lips.

“Can you…open?” John asked. That didn’t sound like him either, too hoarse and mesmerized, but Todd must not have noticed the obvious impostor in front of him because he complied with the request. Two of John’s fingers brushed the top of Todd’s tongue, surprised to find it pink, before Todd’s mouth closed gently around them. Those teeth weren’t sharp, as it turned out, and the rounded tips barely indented John’s skin under the pressure; the tiny pinpricks of feeling were an interesting sensation to pair with the warmth surrounding his skin, and when Todd began to suck, that was something else entirely.

John wondered if he was chasing the taste of salt from his skin, and it took him seconds—very _long_ seconds—to pull out of whatever trance he’d been in, and jerk his hand back.

Todd looked completely unaffected by the last few minutes; John wished he could say he was the same, and not just because his fingers were now a little scraped at the knuckles.

“As I was saying,” Todd continued as though he’d never stopped, “I overheard a radio on the way here—the soldiers were called back to their base to re-group. They’re not looking for us anymore.”

John didn’t trust himself to reply to that with anything coherent, not right then, and so instead he glared for all he was worth.


	10. UST While Being Trapped In a Small Space (John/Todd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Teen for John's implied future boner.

As far as general rules of survival went, "stay out of the Wraith's personal space" was a fairly easy one to follow. Even John, who was admittedly cavalier about rules when they didn't suit him, managed to stick to it more often than not, with impressingly still-alive results.

So it wasn't his fault, really, that his response to suddenly being shoved inside a large locker with Todd was to try and get as far away as possible, resulting in more than a few unfortunately placed elbows or knees but very little else. The box they'd been unceremoniously shoved into had barely enough breathing room and wasn't tall enough for two tall men, so asking for room to stand apart seemed like a bit much; John nonetheless tried to make the most out of nothing, and the result was that they ended up hunched together, both facing the door with John at the front and Todd at his back, with scarcely an inch between them in most places.

It wasn't much better than the position they'd started in, but at least John comforted himself with the knowledge that Todd was _unlikely_ to try and feed on him from this angle, given the way their hands were mostly trapped at their sides. At best, Todd could reach his hips, and John was...almost positive that was fine, even if it was still a little unnerving being close enough to feel the rise and fall of Todd's chest as he breathed.

For several seconds, neither of them said anything.

"It would be better for our chances of survival," Todd said eventually, "if our positions were reversed."

John snorted, because _his_ second rule of survival was "hide panic under a smart remark, even if it kills you." (He was working on revising that one, to be fair.)

"If you can figure out how to do that, be my guest." He tried to shrug and really couldn't; all it did was move him enough that Todd's hair tickled against his neck. "I think this is some sort of...locker. We're lucky there are even holes in the door so we don't suffocate."

"Nonetheless. There's a chance of my being able to force the door open with a better position." Todd shifted, one arm raising to rest against the metal panel; it brushed against John's hip and stomach as it went, causing John to automatically suck in a breath. "You might be crushed if I attempt it now."

"I don't like the sound of that," John said, though he liked the thought of Todd trying to move them even less. Right now, in the position they were in, they were far too close—John could feel the distinct shape of Todd's thighs pressed against him, when earlier he would have sworn Todd's long coat was too thick for that to be possible—and he only saw one way moving would go.

Moving, hell—it would be more like _grinding_ like this, and John was already feeling light-headed from the warm darkness around them. He didn't need to be pressing his front against Todd when being plastered across cold metal was about the only thing keeping him from embarrassing himself as it was.

Todd didn't help at all, when he raised his other hand to touch John's chest. It wasn't his feeding hand, thankfully; he must've been responding to John's increasing panic, evident in his pulse and quickening breaths. He probably thought John was scared; John was glad to let him think that.

"Be calm," Todd said, and it was the rumble of his voice, the way it traveled all along John's back, that made John give a groan of defeat. Cold metal: only so helpful.

"To hell with it," John said on a grumble. "Let's see if we can move, then."


	11. Alternate Realities (John/Todd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated for General Audiences. Todd flirting a bit.

It was inevitable that Todd figured it out, and no surprise that it took him less than fifteen minutes to do so.

"How long do you intend to keep me in this illusion?" Todd asked, as mildly as if he was commenting on the sunny skies or the birds that flew overhead. "I don't think you'll find me a very useful source of information like this.” 

John had to agree with that. He'd said it was a bad idea from the start, actually, since Todd was both abnormally canny and understandably suspicious by nature—no fabricated reality, no matter how detailed, would fool him for long. That the people in charge had elected not to include even virtual humans in the background of this ruse hadn't helped John's feelings on the matter, since he couldn't help but think that was unusually cruel in addition to being a dead giveaway; Todd _liked_ people, even beyond their necessity as a food source, and trapping him in a stasis pod and a virtual world with not even a shadow for company was nothing short of torture.

It was sympathy, probably, that made John choose honesty over the easy lie.

"We're not sure," he said, glancing down at his folded hands, "but that's mostly because we're not sure what will happen after we let you go. The Wraith are—well, you can guess." John didn't say that the tide had turned or that the Wraith were losing numbers too quickly to be replenished, their days as a species numbered; he didn't need to, because Todd would've figured that out the minute he woke up alone in the world. "The point is, you're dangerous, but you've helped us enough in the past that nobody wanted to kill you."

"I could promise to disappear, if you released me," Todd offered, "but I doubt you'd believe it."

"No, I don't think so."

"So you've trapped me here, in this empty, fake world, until my body rots? I could kill you for this." It was said with a remarkable lack of rancor, because Todd was unpredictable that way. "Can I rely on your company, at least? As often as you can spare."

That, John decided, was a promise he could make. And come hell or high-water, he'd manage to keep it somehow.

"Sure. Next time, I'll even buy you dinner."

As John had intended, the comment made Todd laugh. The sound was low and raspy and familiar.

"Dinner? Now there's an interesting prospect." He looked at John for the first time since they'd sat together on this park bench, and the expression was sly. "I hope you're prepared for the fact that, with so much free time to think, my...appetites will have changed."

As flirtation went, it was as subtle as a nuke; the boys monitoring Todd's pod were no doubt having a field day.

John smiled anyway.

"I'll keep that in mind."


	12. Secret Relationships (John/Todd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Teen for implied boners.

John’s formal reports called them “missions for potential alliance negotiations,” and technically speaking, it was an accurate description. No matter how they began, John’s meetings with Todd frequently _did_ end with a temporary alliance of some kind—a trade of information, a future battle to be fought together against a common enemy, a proposal for a joint venture—and the fact that it was required for John to come alone and unarmed was mostly passed off as Todd’s particular quirk that could be humored as long as John returned unharmed. Since the results kept coming in, nobody questioned the details beyond that, and as far as John was concerned, that was a good decision for all involved; he hated to think what would’ve happened if he’d been forced to admit that most of his and Todd’s negotiations only happened during the final few minutes of any given “mission,” raising the uncomfortable question about what they spent the usual preceding five or six hours doing. The people in charge might’ve been fairly understanding about a slide of regulations when it was to their benefit, but John was positive that one of their officers having regular sex with a Wraith commander wasn’t covered by that umbrella, and so it was really to everyone’s benefit that they didn’t ask at all. 

The obvious solution to this dilemma—that John stop doing what he was doing—didn’t cross his mind more than ten or twenty times a day. It wasn’t even about the sex, either; things were different on Todd’s hive, and not just in the alien ways one would expect. John spent so much time worrying on Atlantis—about their defenses, about how his friends and men saw him, about how he lived up to the image in their eyes—and all of that disappeared for a few hours, once a week, as soon as he stepped through the gate into Wraith-controlled territory. He wouldn’t claim to be carefree, never that, but it was a definite relief to know that he didn’t have to pretend in Todd’s company; if any of his dark parts started to poke through, he was fairly sure Todd would like them (its own worry, to be sure) or at least understand them, and that was enough to keep John coming back long after any sane man would’ve stopped.

The sex did help on that front, to be honest. It was good, better than he’d had in years, and relaxing too, since it meant spending time in a bed for some reason other than another sleepless night.

In light of that, it was probably inevitable that John’s tiredness caught up to him when he least wanted it to, resulting in him giving a bone-cracked yawn just as Todd leaned in to kiss him again, most of their clothes already off.

Todd immediately pulled back to look offended for half a second, then he laughed.

“Tired, Sheppard?”

“Give me a few minutes,” John said, because Todd was straddling his hips and running fingers down his bare back and John was _awake_ where it counted, yawning be damned.

When a second yawn came right after that boast, Todd didn’t stop touching him, but he did smile.

“Oh, I have other matters to attend to,” he said, mildly enough that John wondered if Todd might’ve been making time for him every week in the midst of an otherwise busy schedule. “There’s no reason you can’t rest here for a while.” He removed his hands from John’s skin at that, and John missed their coolness immediately, just liked he missed Todd’s weight when he shifted backwards and off his thighs.

“Waste of a trip,” John groused in response, but it was mostly to hide how tempting the offer sounded. Falling asleep on the Hive was a height of foolishness that John had never reached and he didn’t want to start now, no matter how sincere Todd sounded, and no matter that this bed was technically _his_ , since Wraith didn’t sleep in the normal sense and definitely not while lying on a plush mattress.

“We can always say negotiations ran long,” Todd said with perfect reasonableness, but the composure in his voice was undercut by the way he reached out to stroke a finger almost tenderly down John’s cheek. There was longing there, too strong to hide completely, but his eyes never once strayed from John’s own, not even to look down at the skin he could’ve been touching if he hadn’t pulled away. “A few more hours couldn’t hurt.”

A few more hours, John knew, might be the difference between the details being ignored and questions being asked. 

In that moment, John didn’t care.

“Yeah,” he said, and he reached up to catch Todd’s hand, the left one, while still holding his gaze. “It couldn’t hurt.”


	13. Unlikely Rescues (John/Todd or John & Todd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated for General Audiences.

When the prisoner Wraith were finally brought out and into the light, John's first thought was _Todd_ , followed closely by _What has he done now?_

"As you can see," the Wraith Queen said, sounding disinterested even with a dozen former Wraith commanders chained in a line in her throne room. "The rival Wraith factions are being dealt with. Their Queens have already fallen."

"I knew they would," John said, and he glanced at Todd, standing third from the right. He was doing a good job of not looking at John or giving any sign that he knew him at all, which was a relief; in John's current role as a ruthless human traitor bargaining against the lives of his own people, it would've been an issue if he seemed too familiar to one of the Queen's rivals. "How did these ones survive?”

The Queen looked annoyed at the question, so much so that John almost bent down for the gun hidden in his boot.

"Their plots proved to be more insidious than expected," she answered, and John bit his tongue to stop himself from making anything even close to a laugh. 'Insidious' – yes, that sounded like Todd. “Finding them took a great deal of work, and finding their allies…more so.”

John’s eyes unintentionally strayed to Todd once more, and he was distracted for a second by the cut on one cheek, long but barely scabbed over. Was Todd not healing, or had it been cut deeply enough that it simply hadn't healed _yet_? It was difficult to tell, and by the time John realized that he was staring, lost in thought, he knew it had been long enough for the Queen to notice.

“Those are interesting facial markings,” he said instead of an explanation; it seemed to satisfy her, at least enough that she didn’t immediately call for the drones to remove him or lay her feeding hand upon his chest.

“They’re out of fashion,” she said, “but you can have those ones after, if you like.”

John knew what she meant by ‘after:’ after the executions were through. He just didn’t know whether that meant she was planning on skinning Todd or beheading him as soon as their business here was done, and John felt his stomach turn either way.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass. I think I prefer them on alive Wraith anyway,” he said before he was fully aware what he was doing. It sounded like _him_ , not the slimy, cowardly Wraith ally he was pretending to be, and he knew then that the mistake was irreversible; the Queen would never trust him now, not enough to give him their transmission codes, and he’d have to get the Daedalus to beam him away in minutes rather than hours, assuming he lived that long. 

John didn’t know how to react—as either himself or as Thaddious Ryes, treacherous pirate—when the seconds of silence dragged on and the Queen only looked amused.

“That seems like a fair bargain,” she finally said with a sharp, friendly smile. “I had wondered what a human was supposed to gain from helping Wraith, but perhaps I should’ve asked you about your tastes sooner. Keep him, then, if you can manage the trouble.”

John didn’t know what she meant, and then he knew what she meant all too well when the drones stepped forward and unlinked Todd’s chains from those of the other fallen commanders. Apparently, he’d just acquired a Wraith as part of the negotiations, and somehow—judging by the Queen’s continued amusement and her sudden launch into earnest negotiations that she’d avoided earlier—that seemed to help his case.

When Todd was moved to stand a few feet behind him and the drone handed John the lead to his shackles, he was barely able to keep his hands from shaking, or from automatically throwing it back.

“Don’t say a word,” John said under his breath as soon as the Queen turned to her commander to give orders for the Hive’s code to be transmitted to ‘his’ ship; he could feel Todd itching to say something, and he already knew trying to stop it was a lost cause.

“I didn’t even ask for your help this time, John Sheppard,” Todd said, and though he was looking down at the floor in apparent submission, the quiet words were nothing short of gleeful. “This is getting to be a habit of yours.”

“More like a full-time job,” John said, and it took effort, real effort, to keep a smile on his face when the Queen turned back.


	14. Matchmakers (John/Todd & Team Atlantis)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated for General Audiences.

Though skepticism was included in the job description when it came to being a military leader in a far away city, John had always had an advantage there since he was a skeptic by nature. So it said a lot about his life, really, that his current, most plausible working theory for the reported phenomena on this planet was “low-level telepathy of some kind.”

“You know, we have fortune tellers back on Earth too,” John said to Teyla when they were about half an hour’s flight from the gate, only a few minutes out from the hut at the edge of the massive forest. “And I think I should clarify that the only ‘fortune’ they care about is the one in your wallet.”

“The townspeople said she does not charge for her service and only accepts small gifts of food or crafts when they’re offered,” Teyla said, a little too calmly for John’s tastes. He much preferred the way Ronon looked like he was ready to throw himself out of the puddle jumper and the way McKay looked like he was going to melt from nerves; it seemed more honest, somehow. “But they also said she was rarely wrong.”

“ _Rarely_ means a lot when we’re talking someone who thinks they can find your best match in the galaxy,” John pointed out. “I’ll bet you most of her ‘gift’ is reading people, maybe even with some sort of telepathic help, and that most of the matches she ‘finds’ are people her clients are already dating.”

“You agreed it was worth investigating,” Teyla reminded him, and John wished he could take his eyes from the horizon long enough to see if she looked as amused as she sounded. She usually did, when he dug his heels in over harmless things.

He _hated_ fortune tellers.

“I’m flying there, aren’t I? We’re investigating. I just don’t want anyone to get their hopes up about something that’s probably just a good show.”

The statement was met with agreement from two sides—Ronon kept his answer to himself, as he usually did—but John still couldn’t shake his feeling of unease when they landed in front of the small hut. It was humble and sized like one would expect for someone who lived alone on the edge of a forest, and there was a woman waiting for them in the front yard.

John had to admit, the woman—Madam Maira, or just Madam, as the village had called her—didn’t look very mystical. She was younger than he’d expected, maybe a few years younger than John himself, and her warm brown eyes and darker skin matched the people they’d met not half an hour earlier. She wasn’t a visible outsider, and she had none of the trappings of a scam artist; maybe that was what made her so good at what she did, some disarming quality that John couldn’t place even when he was on his guard. He convinced himself he wouldn’t be fooled, and he watched her closely when first Teyla, then Rodney and Ronon, sat down at her table and let her take their hands.

John was feeling pretty confident about his initial assessment when Teyla’s ideal match turned out to be Kanaan and McKay’s match turned out to be Keller, who John knew he was on the brink of proposing to. It got wrenched a little when Ronon’s turned out to be someone he’d never met or heard of; that was an odd thing to stake a reputation on, even if two out of three in their small group wasn’t bad. After a few seconds, John decided it was an answer thrown in for authenticity so that Madam could continue to claim that she really did search the galaxy for their “matches,” and it annoyed him more than a little that Ronon might spend his life waiting for someone who didn’t exist.

Teyla complicated that part, though, when she said she recognized the name and description Madam provided; apparently the man in question lived on a planet the Athosians used to trade with, one that Atlantis hadn’t contacted before. That…was better than a small coincidence, and John was revising his theory—telepathy _and_ informants—when Madam reached for his hand. John barely stopped himself from recoiling, though he did keep his arms deliberately at his sides.

“Uh. I think I’ll pass, if it’s all the same to you.”

Madam smiled at him and pulled her hand back immediately, without wasting a single word trying to change his mind.

“Of course. Everyone should wait until they’re ready.”

John was in the process of biting back his response to that—it wasn’t a matter of being _ready_ , it was a matter of being _rational_ —when McKay nudged his shoulder.

“Go on, John,” he said crisply, with a familiar stubborn set to his jaw. “We’ll get better data if we have a bigger sample size. What’s the worst that can happen?”

That was a leading question if he’d ever heard one, and it meant John should definitely refuse. He knew that.

He couldn’t quite dismiss, though, the happiness, relief, and hope that he’d seen on Teyla, Rodney, and Ronon’s faces when Madam told them their matches. Even if the worst happened—whatever the worst might be—John didn’t want to ruin it for them. 

It was with visible reluctance that John let Madam take his hand, only to be startled when she immediately dropped it. Her expression was difficult to read.

“Let me guess—no match?” John asked as lightly as he could manage, and he felt—he didn’t know what he felt.

“That’s not it,” she said, and she gathered herself before resolutely grabbing his hand again. 

This time, John paid attention to every detail: the way her hand trembled, the way her eyes started to shimmer, and the way her dark skin took on an ashy shade the longer she touched him. Her expression cleared enough, too, that John was able to pick out a single emotion from the twist of them, and it made his stomach roll.

Fear.

After several more seconds, she dropped his hand again, and pushed hers into the folds of her skirt like she was trying to warm them, or clean them.

“Your best match is a…Wraith,” she said quietly. Very quietly.

Judging by the tension that was suddenly in the room, she hadn’t said it quietly enough.

***

John would’ve been perfectly happy to pretend the entire thing hadn't happened, which of course meant that McKay brought it up the second the jumper doors closed.

“It’s probably some kind of algorithm, just on a cosmic scale,” Rodney started quickly, launching into the explanation like he'd barely been able to contain himself for the five minutes it took to say their thank yous and goodbyes. “Finding a closest match rather than an absolute one. And since we're in the Pegasus galaxy and not on Earth, the potential matches are—"

"In the millions instead of the billions?" John interrupted, his voice heavy with doubt. Rodney didn't let that slow him down.

"Or maybe you're right—" 

John wondered how bad he looked, that his expression was apparently enough to make Rodney McKay admit someone else was right without an argument.

"—and it's telepathy. Maybe she was just picking out the people in our mind that we...think about a lot."

McKay seemed to realize what he'd said a second too late, and John fastened his seatbelt with more force than was probably necessary.

"I don’t have _feelings_ for _Todd_ ," he said, though he admitted, if only to himself, that that wasn't strictly true. Feelings existed without a doubt...but up until this point, John just hadn't thought that they were positive ones.

"Nobody said you did, John," Teyla said calmly, and she was tactful enough not to mention that Madam hadn't actually specified that his match was Todd either. "And that wouldn't explain Ronon's match anyway."

They all let that statement sit for a few seconds, long enough for John to get them in the air. The silence wasn't helpful; all it did was give John space to think about how any other match would've made his life easier than it was about to become, even if that "match" had been his ex-wife or Colonel Caldwell or Madam herself.

"Then proximity!" Rodney said once they were headed back to the gate. "Maybe she's just predicting a possible future with the people we're going to see soon. The next time Todd shows up, Sheppard should just pretend to be sick and steer clear, and it should be fine."

"You don't think Todd will notice if John suddenly starts avoiding him?"

"He might, but is that worse than the alternative?"

"We could always kill him the next time we see him," Ronon said, the first thing he'd said since Madam had told him his match. "Just to be sure."

John admitted that, as suggestions went, that one was tempting.

It wouldn't, however, solve the biggest issue in all of this.

"I'd like everyone to leave my...match out of their reports," John said, and whatever guilt he felt about asking his team to break the rules, it was alleviated when they all agreed immediately.

***

Even with the best intentions in the world, being the military leader of Atlantis meant that avoiding a visiting potential ally was next to impossible for long stretches. Without letting Woolsey in on the scheme (and John patently refused to do that) it was left up to John and his team to find the best excuses they could. Unfortunately, none of them were particularly expert liars and none of them could convince Keller to give John a non-fatal disease, so in the end, all of their best efforts bought John a little over two days the next time Todd decided to declare a truce. It wasn’t anywhere near enough time, and it didn’t help John very much, since he spent most of those days expecting his solitude ( _escape_ ) to end at any moment.

When Todd finally slipped his guard—something he did about every third visit, much to the displeasure and confusion of all involved—it was always so he could turn up on the fringes of somewhere innocuous, like the cafeteria or the gym. This time, though, John suspected he knew exactly where he’d be, and so he didn’t jump out of his skin when he turned the corner and found Todd waiting for him just outside his door.

“Sheppard!” he greeted with a cheer that was frankly alarming in a Wraith. “It’s good to see you healthy. I’d wondered.”

“Well, wonder no more. I’ve just been busy.” John waved a hand to encompass the corridor around him as he leaned against the opposite wall; he wasn’t yet crazy enough to actually invite Todd _in_ , especially given the knowledge he’d been avoiding for months. “I’ve had some matters to take care of.”

“Have you? And here I thought you’d just been avoiding me.”

It wasn’t usual for Todd to be that direct; John wasn’t prepared, and he knew the expression on his face—surprised, then annoyed—gave him away.

“Fine. So I’ve been avoiding you.” John sighed when Todd only waited for him to continue. Honesty seemed the best bet, if only because John was tired, a little too tired to make a lie seem true, and who knew: maybe he’d get a good laugh out of it. “My team and I saw a fortune teller a few months ago.”

That finally got a reaction, in the form of Todd smirking slightly.

“I see. Doom and destruction for your people, was it? A warning against trusting a Wraith?”

“Yes and no. She wasn’t that kind of fortune teller.” John was prepared to leave it at that, but Todd was still watching him with an infuriating expression. It wore on John’s last nerve, seeing Todd unbothered when John had lost weeks of sleep over this. “She seemed to think we’d make a great couple though.”

John had expected the statement to surprise Todd, shock him; even so, he wasn’t prepared for how quickly the smile dropped from Todd’s face, and his eyes went sharp.

“Is that so,” Todd said, and then he did the strangest thing: he looked down the hallway, almost like he was looking for an exit. In fact, he looked like he was about to bolt, like he was bracing for an attack, and it seemed impossible—Todd had come looking for _him_ , after all, and it wasn’t like John was armed at the moment.

John was curious despite himself, and despite it all.

“Yes,” he said slowly, “she was a matchmaker. Or finder, maybe—I’m not really sure how it works.”

“And she matched you…and me.” There was something in Todd’s tone that made John wince, but it also cleared something up, a mystery he’d been trying to solve.

All this time, he’d wondered how Madam knew to match him with Todd, what methods she used, how he’d managed to be so obvious to a stranger; it had never occurred to John that she might have picked up on _Todd’s_ feelings too.

“She did,” John said, “which means she got four out of four right.”

Somehow, the way Todd’s eyes widened at that made the entire foolish confession worth it.


	15. Putting Your Hands Up (John/Todd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Teen. The sex will be commencing shortly.

"Is this really necessary?" Todd asked as his hands nonetheless inched upwards to the level of his shoulders, palms facing out. Even in the low light, the wide slit on his feeding hand stood out starkly against his pale skin; it made John shiver to see it, and he re-thought—not for the first time—his decision to come here in the first place. 

"We had a deal, didn't we?" John said, and he felt foolish as he slowly lowered his gun to the ground, watching Todd as he did so; thankfully his hands stayed where they were though his eyes shone in the dark, that alien green following John's every move. "If you can't keep your part, we can just call it off now."

"It's a shame that you still don't trust me, John Sheppard," Todd said, but he was smiling as he did so. "Even though this meeting is about your hunger, not mine."

John froze, his foot halfway raised in a step forward.

"Don't put it like that."

"It would be dishonest to describe it otherwise," Todd disagreed, his tone mild. "But we can always _call it off_ if that upsets you."

John scowled but didn't respond. After a second's pause, he started moving again, taking the eight steps necessary to bring him into Todd's space. From inches away, Todd smelled like something plucked from a forest and dried in the sun, faint but distinctly green—it was more pleasant than John had expected, but startling, too, in how inhuman it was.

It deterred him not at all, though his touch was light when it landed over Todd's stomach. His uniform was leather of some kind, reinforced with ribs of metal that made it act as armor, and John could feel them when he pressed, just like he could feel that Todd was warm and alive underneath that. It made John's pulse hammer in his throat, and it wasn't a smart decision to look up, but it's not like John coming here was a great decision to start with.

Todd still watched him, though it was without that unnerving hunger that all Wraith had. Curiosity and fondness were there in its place, and—maybe a little hunger, but it was a different kind.

Todd's hands remained where they were, and that helped John breathe a little easier when he slid his own hands down to Todd's belt.


	16. No Going Back (John/Todd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated for General Audiences.

John changed his mind a dozen times on the way to Todd's cell, but no doubt remained by the time the plan was in motion. He couldn't say why—it wasn't a _good_ plan by any means, and the consequences were undeniable and guaranteed and career and life-ruining—but he still felt a sense of calm when he unlocked the cell and walked a chained Todd slowly back to the stargate. Nobody questioned it when John escorted a captive Wraith to the command tower, nobody questioned it when he had them dial a Wraith-occupied planet, and John saw just the barest sign that they were _starting_ to question it when he took Todd by the elbow and walked them both through. By then, though, it was too late, and they emerged on the other side, probably less than an hour ahead of the marines that would be mobilized to follow them.

John couldn't say he was sorry, though he also couldn't say it was the right choice. Maybe there'd been no right choice, but at least he could say he'd done something rather than just sit and wait and watch. He doubted Atlantis or Earth would see much of Todd from now on, but even if they did, it wouldn't be John watching him starve next time; John would be court-martialed and in a cell somewhere, and Todd would be doing whatever Todd did when he wasn't making questionable deals with people who wanted to dissect him after he was dead. John thought he could live with that future, despite the costs, and so the calm remained even on a planet with Wraith darts nearly blocking out the sky.

Todd hadn't said anything during the walk to the stargate, but he broke his silence when John reached for his chains and hurriedly unlocked them with the key he'd nabbed from the guard.

"You're...letting me go?" 

Todd was usually pretty quick to take advantage of a situation, but he sounded genuinely shocked this time; John wondered if he should be proud, and then he realized it was probably just the starvation that was making Todd slow on the uptake.

"You only get one get-out-of-jail-free card," John said with a shrug as he let the chains drop to the ground, as casual as he could manage. They'd been here five minutes, maybe less – there was still time for something like a goodbye. "Probably shouldn't waste it."

Todd stared at him and John stared back, and when Todd moved forward, it was sudden, inhumanly fast.

_He's not as weak as he was pretending to be_ , John thought, and he felt a jolt of fear when he realized the other consequence he hadn't truly considered: death by starving Wraith. It probably served him right.

It was John's turn to be shocked when Todd kissed him, his hands soft on John's face rather than painful against his chest. He kissed him and kissed him, and then pulled back to say "thank you, Sheppard" and kissed him again.

It said a lot about John's priorities, that he kissed him back even as the minutes ticked by and a dart flew directly overhead.


	17. Ritual Public Sex (John/Todd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Mature for sex.

The Wraith had been around long enough to know something of humans, and with the marked exception of Worshippers and those few allies they claimed among humankind, humans were mostly the same. When put into circumstances like these, they had predictable feelings—fear, hatred, disgust—and whether they shrank back or stood tall, the result was the same. Humans didn't want to be close to a Wraith, not even when it was necessary, and so any sort of bargain was always done under a nauseating sort of duress that managed to kill even _his_ appetite.

In this, as in so many things, Sheppard surprised him. The Wraith almost wasn't sure what to do when he slipped his hand inside Sheppard's clothes and found him erect, with no coaxing or stimulation required. It wasn't what he was used to—wasn't what was expected, by him or any of their observers—and it was enough to give him pause.

Sheppard, meanwhile, ground against his hand, and pulled him closer.

"If we're going to do this, Todd," Sheppard said harshly, though he breathed hard through locked teeth, "let's just get it over with."

The words made the Wraith smile. As disguises went, it was a poor one.

"If that's what you want," he said, and he curled his hand around warm flesh and watched the way Sheppard's eyes flickered closed.


End file.
